


And Baby Makes Six

by SexuallyMonsterous (Alli_Bialystock)



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff and Smut, It will probably vacillate wildly between the two, M/M, Mpreg, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alli_Bialystock/pseuds/SexuallyMonsterous
Summary: Richard has two huge problems.1. He's pregnant.2. He has no clue who the father is.The boys try to navigate pregnancy, parenthood, and budding relationships.





	And Baby Makes Six

Richard sighed when he walked back into the conference room only to be met by Dinesh, Gilfoyle, and Jared all looking at him in various states of frustration. “Sorry,” he mumbled weakly, sitting down at the head of the table. “Anyway, what were we talking about?”

“Richard, you’ve been puking every fifteen minutes for like a week,” Dinesh pointed out. “You need to see a fucking doctor.” 

“It’s not a big deal.” Richard took a deep gulp of tea from the mug Jared insisted on pushing into his hands every few minutes. He winced; for whatever reason, tea had just been making him sicker. It had been tasting off to him lately, but he couldn’t imagine why. “Jared, could you please grab me a ginger ale?”

Jared looked both worried and slightly hurt, but he hurried to Richard’s office to grab a can from the stockpile Richard had started keeping near his desk. 

“It seems like a big deal,” Dinesh continued doggedly. “You can’t get us sick right now, Richard. We can’t afford to have everyone in the office taking sick days when we’re still this early in development.”

“Don’t be a prick about this,” Gilfoyle added. “We all know how weak Dinesh’s immune system is.”

“I’m fine!” Richard insisted, shuffling in his seat. He’d barely sat down and he was already nauseous again. Fucking stellar. “You guys know my stomach is… finicky. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

“Great, but what about us?!” Dinesh complained. “I don’t want to spend the next two weeks puking my guts out because you’ve infected the entire office, and I’m sure Gilfoyle doesn’t want to either!”

“I don’t get sick,” Gilfoyle said, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. “Seeing as I do actual labor and even go outside, nothing that you catch could even touch me.” He shot a glance at Richard. “That said, Dick - go to the doctor. The hour’s almost up and you’ve spent half the meeting in the bathroom.”

“But-but there’s so much work to do,” Richard said, eyes darting between the two, “and we have a schedule we need to stick to, and there’s a meeting tomorrow with Monica…”

“Somehow we’ll survive without our brave leader for a few days,” Gilfoyle interrupted. 

“Besides, if you don’t see a doctor, I literally think you might die,” Dinesh agreed. 

Richard sighed and was about to make another argument, but his stomach lurched and he had to fumble under the table for the now-constant companion that was his vomit bucket. When he came up for air, both Dinesh and Gilfoyle were glaring at him. “Okay, point made,” he gasped. “I’ll go to the doctor.”

 

It took Jared a while to convince Richard that, now that he had insurance, he should go to a “real” doctor instead of the asshole over at urgent care, but Richard finally acquiesced under the condition that Jared had to drive him there. Richard had gotten to the point where he was late everywhere he went because of all the time it took him to pull over and puke on the side of the road. “I think it’s a very wise decision to see a doctor, Richard,” Jared told him gently. He put an arm around Richard’s waist to guide him into the office, but Richard shook him off, annoyed. “We’ve all been really concerned about you.”

“Yeah, Dinesh and Gilfoyle seemed _real_ concerned,” Richard huffed. He unzipped his hoodie when they got inside. “Why is it so hot in here?”

Jared frowned. “I guess I didn’t notice. I can hold onto your hoodie for you.”

Richard shrugged out of the offending garment and handed it to Jared, who took it with the tiny smile of pride that he had on his face every time he did something helpful. “Thanks, Jared.” As cranky and irrationally annoyed as he’d been feeling most of the past couple weeks, Richard really was trying to be nice. He rubbed at his temples, trying to fight back a headache. “And thanks for driving. I’ll pay you back for the gas and everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help.” Jared sounded so earnest when he said it that it made Richard want to cry.

When the nurse called his name, Richard considered asking Jared to come into the back with him, but he managed to shake off the urge. He always hated being alone with anyone new - especially doctors, considering how well his relationship with his last doctor had gone - but he’d gone from “socially awkward” to “painfully clingy” over the course of the past month. He thought it might have something to do with leaving the safety of the hostel for Jared’s condo, or losing Erlich, or maybe just the general stress of taking on a project as big as a new internet, but whatever it was, it was humiliating. He felt like he couldn’t stand to be alone for more than a few hours in spite of the fact that he was a grown man who usually thrived on silence. 

The doctor, Dr. Sandarah, was a sweet-faced Indian woman with a soft, lightly accented voice. She hardly came to Richard’s shoulders, and when they shook hands, hers were soft and warm. Just her presence helped him relax, and he became less hyper aware of the crinkling paper underneath him and the way his arm still stung from the blood pressure cuff. He was even more relieved when she gestured at him to take a chair rather than leaving him huddled up on the examination table.

She thumbed through his chart. “I see you’re having some trouble with nausea,” she remarked.

Richard snorted. When she frowned, he explained, “Well, I mean, yeah. But I, uh, usually have problems with it. It’s a stress thing. But lately it’s just gotten completely out of control. Nothing’s helped, and it’s been almost three weeks.”

Dr. Sandarah nodded, making a note to herself. “And how often have these spells of nausea and vomiting been occurring?”

“Um… I dunno. Probably ten times per day? Maybe more?”

She raised her eyebrows and made another note. “I see. And have you been experiencing abnormal levels of stress?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.” Richard sighed. “My company just moved into new offices and hired a ton of people recently, we’re trying to make a product that no one’s ever created before, and I’m living with my COO because my ex-landlord - who was supposed to be my friend and business partner, but whatever, fuck me I guess - left to go smoke opium in China or something and one of my old roommates went crazy and kicked us all out of our house.”

“So it’s stressful.” Richard appreciated that she was at least putting forth great effort to not look bored.

“Yeah. It’s stressful. But honestly, it’s not all that much worse than it’s been since I started the company, and even then, it’s not like I’m just always puking.”

Dr. Sandarah scratched down a few more notes. Richard tried hard not to be interested in what they said. “Alright. Any other symptoms?”

Richard felt another twinge in his temples, and he rubbed at them irritably. “Headaches,” he said shortly. “I’m exhausted. My chest and my back hurt all the time. And I have to pee constantly, which doesn’t make any sense, because nothing seems to reach my stomach anymore anyway.”

Dr. Sandarah’s eyes widened, and Richard wanted to apologize - was it weird to talk about his pee? It was okay to talk to a doctor about pee, right? - but she cut him off with a question. “How have your moods been?”

He shrugged. “Not great. Like I said, I’m really stressed.”

“But do you feel more irritable than usual? Moodier? Are you crying more often than usual?”

He thought back to the previous week, when Dinesh found him sobbing in a janitorial closet because he’d just watched a puppy video and discovered they were out of brown sugar for his oatmeal. “Uh. Yeah. Maybe some.”

“Are you finding that you don’t enjoy foods that you used to like, or that they have started making you sick?”

Richard felt a glimmer of hope. “Yeah! It’s really weird, but my favorite tea just grosses me out now. And I used to make myself scrambled eggs all the time, but now just the smell makes me sick.”

“Do you feel hungry more often than usual? Maybe craving certain foods all the time?”

He laughed a little in sheer relief. _”Yes!_ It’s so annoying! I have an entire shelf of pecan sandies at work, but I’m still going through them like crazy!” He put a hand to his chest; even though the muscles there were tender, it was nice for him to feel his heart starting to slow. “Wow. I can’t tell you how glad I am that I came in here. I was worried you wouldn’t have any idea what was wrong with me.”

Dr. Sandarah came him a gentle smile, but her eyes carried a clear warning: _don’t get too excited just yet._ “Mr. Hendricks, I see here that you’re an omega, yes?”

Just out of reflex, Richard’s legs snapped closed even tighter. He had hoped he’d make peace with his body over the years, but he still felt like an awkward pubescent teenager whenever people brought up his status as a male omega. He wasn’t sure he could ever get used to the way alphas (and the occasional beta) practically growled when they got within sniffing distance of him. “I am,” he replied stiffly.

The doctor nodded. “That must be a bit stressful. It’s not common to see omega CEOs.”

It wasn’t common, actually, to see omegas at all, especially omega cismen. Richard had met a small handful of other omegas in Stanford’s omega group, but otherwise, the only ones he’d met were a couple of scattered relatives. Even alphas - who were also woefully outnumbered by betas - outnumbered omegas by a decent amount. 

In the Valley, though, Richard couldn’t recall even casually bumping into another omega. CEOs were usually alphas, like Laurie, Monica, Gavin, Russ, and even Erlich. The other guys he worked and lived with had all been betas; most of them, like Jared and Bighead, could get pretty far, but they always seemed to fall just short of the top. Richard knew his win at Techcrunch alone had inspired endless, tiring think pieces about omega leadership and equality, but he did his best to avoid ever reading them. If he was going to just assume he was going to fail, he’d rather do it because he’d actually screwed up, not because he had a uterus. 

“I guess it can be stressful, but I think being a CEO is always stressful,” Richard said, trying to balance his irritation with a certain amount of respect for the doctor. “I don’t think me being an omega really has anything to do with this.”

Dr. Sandarah nodded, but if she’d listened to his response, she gave no indication of it. “Do you use an contraceptives?” 

Richard frowned. “I use heat suppressants, yeah. I’ve been on them since high school, though.”

“Do you use them consistently?”

“Yeah. Same time every day. I have a reminder on my phone.”

“Do you still experience any heat symptoms?”

Richard sighed heavily. The line of questioning started to remind him of the doctor he had as a teenager, a young man who’d apparently never even seen an omega before. He’d spent over an hour asking questions about Richard’s reproductive system before even asking why Richard had come in in the first place. “I get kind of a mini heat every month. But like I said, that’s not unusual for me.”

“Now, was your last period -”

“Jesus!” The remark jumped to Richard’s lips before he could stop it. When Dr. Sandarah raised her eyebrows, he fiddled awkwardly with the arms of his chair. “Sorry, but… is this stuff really important?”

The doctor nodded slowly, putting her notes aside. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hendricks. Most of my patients seem to prefer a certain type of subtlety when discussing these issues, but I’ll be frank. Is there any way you could be pregnant right now?”

It was like all of the wires in Richard’s brain short-circuited at once. “What - I - what - no - I mean - no!” 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I noticed that you were prescribed antibiotics a few months ago.”

“Yeah, I just got a little sick! What does that have to do with me being…?” He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. 

“Antibiotics can reduce the effectiveness of heat suppressants,” Dr. Sandarah explained. She was keeping as professional a tone as possible, but Richard could see pity in her eyes. _She must’ve just realized I’m a complete idiot. Great._ “If you’re not using any other birth control and you’re sexually active, you could be pregnant. It would explain all of your symptoms.”

Richard’s stomach dropped so hard and fast that it made his head spin. “But I… I can’t be, can I? I mean, I can’t be.”

“Are you sexually active?”

It felt like a surprisingly loaded question. Then again, though, Richard’s last doctor literally laughed in his face any time he expressed concern over STDs or contraceptive use. “Um… sort of. It hasn’t been often, but sometimes when I get a mini heat, someone… helps me through it, I guess.”

“Have you had a period since the last time you had sex?”

 _I must have._ It was inconceivable, after all, that Richard wouldn’t have noticed something so Goddamn obvious about his own body, right? It happened every month. He sometimes skipped a mini heat, but his period usually ran like clockwork. 

Except…

Richard was on his feet and barfing into the trash can in the corner before he knew what was happening.


End file.
